


Take Me Up

by woodworms_before_breakfast



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, POV a sword ok idk, oop i guess that’s a spoiler sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:55:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodworms_before_breakfast/pseuds/woodworms_before_breakfast
Summary: And cast me away
Relationships: Merlin & Gwen (Merlin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 17
Collections: The Melee Challenge





	Take Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> Melee Challenge: January 2 - January 9, 2021  
> Prompt #4 (Sword)

It was in the hands of a blacksmith that the legend was born. The early days, it sat there by the anvil, restless with a destiny it couldn’t begin to understand.

A girl came often, sitting on the bed in the corner to stare at it. Her brown eyes gleamed with curiosity and something like hope. She wore a pretty yellow dress over a white slip, or else a lavender dress and flowers in her hair.

She liked to watch her father work. His sculpted hands were promises to her, and her brother, to keep them safe and warm. As he struck and shaped the orange metal into weapons that could stop a man’s heart within seconds, she smiled and giggled at the thought of years to come, spent happily with her family.

It watched her grow up. When her mother died. When her brother left. And when she danced through the doorstep one day, a red cloak around her shoulders, humming happily to herself. The blacksmith asked her what had happened.

“I’ve met a hero,” she sighed dreamily. “Not a rough, tough, save-the-world kind of hero. The kind actually worth loving.”

She blushed, then, at what she’d said. The blacksmith chuckled and turned back to his work. Her humming faded away, beneath the echoed clanging of the smith. She spoke of the boy she’d met, when she was alone with it, without her father around to hear their conversation.

He came knocking at her door, finally. It was strange, listening from the corner without her lovely voice telling it exactly what was wrong. But the boy leaned in through the door, and the words grew clearer.

“-a favor. I’m not sure how to ask it,” he was saying.

“Ask, Merlin,” she answered. “You know I’d grant you anything.”

It didn’t want to leave the blacksmith and his daughter. But soon, it rested in the steady, warm palm of the boy, and something hummed with power from his pale grip. He brought it with him across an empty courtyard, through marble corridors, down a damp stone tunnel. Everything was dark and hushed.

And then: flames.

Something burned. It felt the dragon’s fire lick its blade, leaving a coat of magic and protection etched into it with ancient runes.

_ Take me up _ .

It had never felt so alive before, so well-prepared to face all manners of danger in the world. The boy and the dragon were exchanging words, of thanks and of warning, but the sound muffled as it appraised itself. How exhilarating, to be filled with something greater than yourself.

_Cast me away_.

The boy squeezed its hilt as he raced towards an oaken door. Behind them, shadows lifted their heads from restless slumber and witnessed the secret birth of a fate-laden weapon.

It felt seraphic in its newfound beauty and power. The moon-draped night was peaceful in the armory as Merlin breathed and exhaled several protective enchantments along the blade. He left then, closing the door behind him as he, too, joined the realm of dreams.

Excalibur stayed quietly that night among other swords, enjoying the silent calm. After all, it had centuries ahead of it, to be spent waiting at the bottom of a lake.


End file.
